
It was a cool night with a slight breeze blowing from the east. The five women huddled in the parking lot, not ready to separate, only too happy to continue their conversations. Like many strip malls, The Good Grill parking lot was bordered on perpendicular sides by a row of stores, while the neighborhood streets formed the rest of the rectangle. It was a typical suburban setting and would have been unremarkable if it wasn’t for the massive 19th-century building located behind the restaurant a short block away.
The old Wallace Fabric Mill loomed over The Good Grill as it had over the surrounding area for the past 150 years, a silent observer to the various changes to the landscape. It was an enormous, grim-looking building with a dirty red-brick exterior broken up by small murky windows evenly spaced across its four stories. It called to mind something you’d associate with those forbidding factories found in Charles Dickens’s England.
“What’s that place?” Sollie asked as she looked up. Her real-estate nose was always on the lookout for property. She didn’t notice it on the way in—maybe because she was in too much of a rush.
“The Wallace Fabric Factory. It was the biggest employer around here more than 100 years ago. Sometime in the 1970s it went out of business and became abandoned. It’s been vacant, until recently when it was taken over by LIMBO,” Glynn replied.
“Oh, yes,” Iris chimed in. “I remember reading about this. I have a couple of clients who are investors. The purpose is to generate scientific discoveries, to spur economic development, and hopefully create good-paying jobs. It’s for startups. Not the right investment for everybody,” she concluded.
“That’s right,” Glynn continued. “It came out of a suggestion from a LIMBO committee Gil was on. It’s a research incubator, attracting top scientists by giving them inexpensive lab and office space—Long Island Quality Intellectual Development, LIQuID. The idea is to provide all the back-office support, and even financial investments, that could yield scientific breakthroughs. Like Alzheimer’s research, or a cure for cancer.”
Just then, Glynn became distracted by a powerful aroma—the air was suddenly infused with the smell of freshly cut grass. It was so strong, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed it earlier.
“Look. What’s coming out of the side of the building?” asked Onawhim as she pointed skyward at a light-colored cloud billowing out.
“It’s probably exhaust from an old boiler,” Sollie offered. “Those contraptions are not very efficient; sometimes they end up venting as much heat as they retain.”
Everyone seemed to be satisfied with her explanation as they stood quietly in the parking lot, watching the gas escape in what felt like slow motion. The cloud coalesced, resembling an amoeba floating in water. It was able to keep its shape as a gentle breeze blew it toward the parking lot.
“Do you smell that?” Onawhim whispered, mesmerized by a powerful memory. “It reminds me of my grandmother’s herb tea: a mix of clove, ginger and lemon grass. I haven’t smelled anything like that in years.”
Penna was amazed by its light color which was contrasted against the dark sky. Like a mushroom growing on the forest floor, Penna breathed in its earthy, musty scent. “This smells like something my family brought back from Italy. You know, a type of truffle . . . earthy, woodsy.” Not believing her first impression, Penna gulped in multiple breaths as she watched the cloud move overhead.
“Wait a minute!” Sollie exclaimed. “I know this is crazy and it wouldn’t be the first time people thought I was nuts, but I could swear I’m smelling chocolate. Not the candy bar kind, but the real stuff—you know, the expensive $100 a box deep, dark, sexy kind. I can’t believe it, but it’s making me hungry all over again.”
Iris was too focused on the cloud to hear what the others were saying. With undivided attention, she watched it slowly pass overhead. Gradually, she became aware of a subtle fragrance. It reminded her of her favorite perfume, Odyssey, which had notes of lavender, jasmine, and musk. Iris couldn’t believe it, but it smelled as if Odyssey was surrounding her, permeating her coat, her hair, her skin. She took a deep breath, delighting in its unique essence and noticed the result: goose bumps popped up and down her arms, and she felt sexually aroused.
The five of them stood rooted to the ground, looking up at the sky. Each drew in deep lungfuls of the fresh, spicy, sweet, sexy, earthy aroma, captivated by the cloud’s unearthly beauty. Slowly it moved on, passing overhead and sliding through the night sky, continuing on its silent journey. A clean, cool breeze blew by, causing a shiver and breaking the spell as the cloud’s wispy tendrils started to dissolve.
“Did you see that?” exclaimed Sollie, the first to speak. “I can almost taste the chocolate. It smelled so real!”
“It wasn’t chocolate,” Glynn corrected. “It was the most intense aroma of freshly cut grass after a summer shower. It reminded me of the camp I went to every summer. They had a big field, and this smelled exactly as newly mowed hay. So fresh . . . it was just so pure and fresh,” she repeated, unable to get the memory or the smell of it out of her mind.
Onawhim spoke about her grandmother’s tea, a unique blend no one else could know. Penna described in fine detail the woodsy fragrance she remembered as a small child watching her mother in the kitchen. The aroma conjured deep, powerful memories, some long dormant, that had spontaneously come to life. Each one described in fine detail what they smelled, remembered, and experienced. When Iris spoke about her physical arousal, they all shared a good-natured laugh, a signal the moment had passed. Peeling off to find their respective cars, everyone dissipated home as the cloud vanished into the night sky.